Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Bulgaria and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Nils Olav to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monolake record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sonics,
Sonny Sharrock,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
David Axelrod,
Ponytail,
Gil Scott Heron,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Electric Prunes,
Rod Modell,
Harry Pussy,
Barclay James Harvest,
Delon & Dalcan,
T.S.O.L.,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Juan Atkins,
Negative Approach,
CMW,
Kerri Chandler,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Monks,
Steve Hackett,
Archie Shepp,
Bang On A Can,
Half Japanese,
Trumans Water,
Desert Stars,
R.M.O.,
Radio Birdman,
the Bar-Kays,
Nick Fraelich,
U.S. Maple,
Nik Kershaw,
Magma,
Tears for Fears,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Deakin,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deepchord,
Jeff Mills,
Lou Reed,
Y Pants,
The Doors,
Shuggie Otis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Crispy Ambulance,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Oblivians,
Bad Manners,
The Monks,
The Zeros,
Magazine,
Ornette Coleman,
Brothers Johnson,
Buzzcocks,
The Gap Band,
The Beau Brummels,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Groovy Waters,
Unwound,
The Gun Club,
Sonic Youth,
Basic Channel,
Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman, Colin Newman.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.